After (The After Series)

What?
Oh.
My skin is starting to tingle already.
“You want me to, don’t you?” he purrs, and I gulp. Of course I do. I look up at
him and try to hide my eager smile. He notices and with a swift, delicate motion
flips us over so he is hovering above me. He supports his weight with one arm
while his other hand reaches lower. I bring my leg up to his side, and when my
knee bends he runs his hand from my ankle to the top of my thigh.
“So soft,” he says and repeats the motion. He gives my thigh a light squeeze

---

and my skin is covered in goose bumps within seconds. Hardin leans over and
places a single kiss on the side of my knee, causing my leg to jerk. He grabs it
and laughs, hooking his arm around it.
What is he going to do? The anticipation is driving me crazy.
“I want to taste you, Tessa,” he says, eyes locked on mine to gauge my
reaction.
My mouth is instantly parched. Why is he asking to kiss me, when he knows he
can do that anytime? I part my lips and wait for him.
“No. Down here,” he corrects me, bringing his hand in between my legs. My
lack of experience must astound him, but he at least tries to fight his smile. I
frown at him and his finger touches me over my panties, causing me to suck in a
breath. His finger makes soft strokes over my sex as he continues to look into
my eyes.
“You’re already wet for me.” His voice is raspier than usual. His hot breath
stings my ear and he runs his tongue along my earlobe.
“Talk to me, Tessa. Tell me how badly you want it.” He smirks and I squirm
as he applies more pressure to my sensitive area.
I can’t find my voice because my body is on fire from his touch. After a few
more seconds he pulls his hand away and I whimper.
“I didn’t want you to stop,” I whine.
“You didn’t say anything,” he snaps, and I recoil. I don’t want this Hardin. I
want the laughing, playful Hardin.
“Couldn’t you tell?” I ask him and move to sit up.
He pulls himself up and sits on my thighs, holding his weight on his parted
knees. He brushes his fingers across the tops of my thighs and my body instantly
reacts, shifting my hips to meet his.
“Say it,” Hardin instructs. I know that he is well aware that I do; he just wants
to make me say it aloud. I nod and he waves his finger back and forth in front of
me.
“No nodding, just tell me what you want, baby,” he says, and climbs off of my
knees. I mentally weigh the pros and cons of this situation. Is the humiliation of
telling Hardin that I want him to . . . kiss me down there worth the feeling I will
get from him doing it? If it feels anywhere near as good as what Hardin did to
me with his fingers the other day, then I know it’s worth it. I reach out and grab
his bare shoulder to stop him from moving any farther away from me. I’m
overthinking this, I know I am, but my mind won’t stop racing.
“I want you to.” I move closer to him.
“Want me to what, Theresa?” He has to be kidding me; he knows exactly what
he’s doing.

---

“You know . . . to kiss me,” I say and his smile grows. He leans over and
plants a kiss on my lips. I roll my eyes and he kisses my lips again.
“Is that what you wanted?” he says with a smirk and I swat his arm. He is
going to make me beg him.
“Kiss me . . . there.” I blush and cover my face with my hands. He pulls them
away, laughing, and I frown at him. “You’re embarrassing me on purpose.” I
scowl. His hands are still on mine.
“I’m not meaning to embarrass you. I just want to hear you say what you want
from me.”
“Never mind, Hardin,” I say and sigh loudly. Because I am embarrassed and
maybe my hormones are going haywire and messing with my emotions but now
the moment has passed and I’m annoyed with his ego and constant need to goad
me. I roll over and lie on my side, facing away from him, and cover myself with
the blanket.
“Hey, I’m sorry,” he says, but I ignore him. I know part of me is just annoyed
at myself that being around Hardin has turned me into a typical hormonal
teenager.
“Good night, Hardin,” I snap and hear him sigh. He mutters something under
his breath that sounds like “fine,” but I don’t ask him to repeat it. I force my eyes
closed and try to think of anything besides Hardin’s tongue or the way his arm
just draped across my body as I fall asleep.

---

chapter thirty-five
I
am hot, too hot. I try to pull the covers off me, but they won’t budge. When my
eyes open, the night before comes flooding into my mind: Hardin screaming at
me in the yard, the scotch on his breath, the broken glass in the kitchen, Hardin
kissing me, Hardin moaning as I touched him, his wet boxers. I try to lift myself,
but he’s too heavy, his head lying across my chest and his arm wrapped around
my waist, his body cloaking mine. I’m surprised we ended up like this; he must
have moved this way in his sleep. I do admit, I don’t want to leave this bed,
leave Hardin, but I have to. I have to get back to my room. Noah is there. Noah.
Noah.
I gently push Hardin off by his shoulder, rolling him onto his back. Then he
rolls onto his stomach and groans but doesn’t wake.
I hurry to my feet and grab my scattered clothes off the floor. Being the
coward that I am, I want to be out of here by the time he wakes. Not that he’ll
mind; at least he won’t have to invest his energy in hurting me on purpose if I
leave on my own. This way is better for both of us. Regardless of how we
laughed together last night, nothing is the same in the light of day. Hardin will
remember how we got along pretty well last night and then will feel the need to
be extra hateful to make up for it. It’s what he does, and I will not be around this
time. For a second last night, the thought had crossed my mind that maybe our
night together would change his mind, make him want to have more with me.
But I know better, really.
I fold his T-shirt neatly on the dresser and zip my skirt up. My shirt is

---

wrinkled from lying on the floor last night, but that’s really the least of my
worries at the moment. I slip my feet into my shoes and as I grab hold of the
door handle, I think, One more look back won’t hurt.
I look back to the sleeping Hardin. His messy hair is sprawled onto the pillow,
and his arm is now draped over the side of the bed. He looks so peaceful, so
beautiful despite the pieces of metal in his face.
I turn back around and turn the door handle.
“Tess?”
My heart drops. I slowly turn back around to Hardin, expecting to see his
harsh green eyes glaring at me. But instead, they are closed; a frown is set on his
face, but he is still asleep. I can’t decide if I’m relieved that he is asleep, or
somber that he called out my name. Is that what he did, or am I hearing things
now?
I jump out of the room and gently close the door behind me. I have no idea
how to get out of this house. I walk straight down the hall and I am relieved to
find the stairs easily. I pad down the stairs and nearly collide with Landon. My
pulse quickens as I try to think of something to say. His eyes scan my face and
he stays silent, waiting for an explanation, I assume.
“Landon . . . I . . .” I have no idea what to say.
“Are you okay?” he asks with concern.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I know you must think—”
“I don’t think anything. I really do appreciate you coming. I know you don’t
like Hardin, and it means a lot to me that you would come here to help get him
in control.”